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I was in pain, shattered and weary when I got home.
Not many photographicalisationing were taken. Plenty of naps and kips, but they were all interrupted by various pains springing me awake.
Tomorrow is expected to be another busy day for the district Nurse, Warfarin Nurse, Caregiver Kara Financial, and Catheter Constrictionings. The Asda order is coming. As I was typing, I hoped to find a more bearable layout to ease it. Little Inchie is in such agony again with the tubing.
ARGH! This is not good!
Anyway, here’s the snaps.
Dark urine again. Fancy that!
The ankles and legs look better.
Renaud’s in the toes.
Time-killing crossword.
Teeth bleeding after cleaning.
Back Home.
I Fell asleep, woke up, and took this.
Blogging, doing the ode to the hospital.
Carer Christopher came, in need of nibbles.
I’d fallen asleep watching the TV. Night bag on, my socks were taken off, and he washed the pots for me.
For the first time all day, I was in a position where the tube was not too painful. He recognised this and threw a quilt over me. Chris checked the taps, etc., turned off the lights, and departed.
TTFN
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I rose from the bed at 05:10 hrs. First, I detached the nocturnal catheter pouch. 
Just a little painful.
This is a fantastic view from the kitchen window. Unfortunately, the blotches were caught in all the external photographs today, Humph! 
It was torture! I soon changed my mind, and at the same time, self-loathing erupted when I realised what I’d done… Again! I ordered the wrong size pants, Small instead of large! I’d pissed myself off, something wicked! The genitals were crushed as the catheter tube pulled tight! I grabbed the scissors post-haste and cut the PPs off. 
once more. The pain continued anyway, off and on, without evident causation? These white pants are so thick that I think they catch Little Inchie more than the slimmer ones, but they are just as effective as the Depend ones. I ensured the lad was treated to nibbles and drinkies by showing my appreciation for his time. It was his last night shift call, and I felt a smidge sad at keeping him from getting home.
I made up a waste bag and got on with the blogging, albeit stumblingly and error-ridden. These white pants continued hurting things below. I took an extra Codeine, hoping it might ease things. Huh! Of course, it did nothing to help pain-wise.
Carer Kimberley arrived. She knew I was in pain and showed concern; bless her. I told her of the earlier woes with Little Inchie. I decided to hand her the box of 30 Depend pants: no, 29 now I’ve tried on and scissored off one pair. Hahaha! My wondering wrongly cost me a good bit of cash! 
But thought that if I sent the box to Meridian to issue or use someone else… with less of a midriff on them, and they have also been catheterised, then they could possibly use them in the event that they run out!
I then ordered some large protection pants from the Amazon site. I made double-sure I’d ordered the correct size this time! Well, I did that last time (Well, I thought that I had) and still got it wrong, didn’t I? These were also dearer, but they looked more comfortable and seemingly had a waistband on them. We’ll see when they arrive. Amazon said they would deliver on Tuesday, which is good cause I’m going to Nottingham City Hospital tomorrow. To have the knees and ankles checked for Arthritis and Cartilage problems. Now there’s a word..
There were so many blotches on this snap of a puffer cloud that I was disappointed. I’ve tried cleaning the lens with a cleaner stick and impregnated tissues. Yet still they appear? Such are the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodaemons, apparitions, and other grotesqueries that haunt the hallways and lobbies, searching for Inchie to curse with lousy luck, create ambiguities, abstrucities, 
perplexities, misfortunes and botherations, to scare. Worry and confuse me! Cataract Katie, Neuropathy Pete, Doreen Dementia and Incogniscent Iris are the main culprits. There are others, of course.
There are beautiful clouds in the sky. But I suppose that’s where one would expect them to be. Hehehe!
amongst the clouds.
Later, the sun burst through, and I took this shot of the virtually mud-less end car park. A jolly good mixture of vehicle colours was on show for our perusal. The light blue one, as per usual, parked on the yellow chevron ‘do-not-park-here’ lines. But hey, why should I bother?
Getting a smidge darker out there now. Another gorgeous selection of clouds to find figures in!
Then, blow me, if half an hour later, out came the sun again, forcing her way through the ever-darkening clouds. Mayhap, a ‘Goodnight all!’ message? Hehehe!
Better get some fodder sorted out, then… off to the kitchenette, and I conjured up a simple meal for a simple, tired old man.
I enjoyed this one, especially the cunningly cooked potatoes in the crock pot that I sliced while still hot, sprayed with oil, and put into the preheated oven for ten minutes with the vegetable pastie. I ate it all up, washed the utensils and plate, and swiftly fell asleep watching the goggle box.
Carer Richard arrived.
My New Psychoanalyst
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felt urgent. So I hastily fumbled my way out of bed. Whipped off the nocturnal catheter pouch and hastened to the wet room. And 
The constipation Conrad controlled monster crept out so painfully with intermittent fears that something was going to burst in my rear end as it excruciatingly slowly emerged. I felt like I’d just done 3-rounds with Mike Tyson by the time the 
cement-like torpedo finally clunked into the water.
pouch while in there, taking it off first, of course.
on display. I tried to get a decent shot. The second one was out of sync, too. Not by much. Am I getting betterer? Hehe!
Got the waste bags gathered into one ready for collection. Good of them to take the bags for me. Much appreciated
Made a mug of Glengettie tea, and got on the computer. Boy, I was doing so well at first. Getting on with it and without anywhere near as many Whoopsies and Accifauxpas, as usual, have been doing lately. I think I allowed myself a mini Smug mode. Haha!
Off back to the wet room and the Porcelain Throne again.
I made myself another mug of tea as the day brightened up and the free-floating puffer clouds appeared. It was absolutely beautiful to see. Nature can be so glorious!
I went out onto the balcony to get a sunny shot of the end car park, with its mudslide looking low and little for a change.
Within an hour, the sky was looking conceivable of bringing a spot of rain. the clouds were proud and looked almost magnificent 
to me. When I got around to putting the above snap in the blog, my well-known 
arrived. With her usual calm fashion, she sorted the medications, checked the letters, and reminded me of the Doctor’s visit in the morning. She also checked the emails that confused me. I’m still waiting to hear if anyone else in the flats has had a British Gas one telling them that the supply would be cut unless we get a no-charge new meter fitted. I reckon they are trying to force us onto smart meters! There have been some horrendous mistakes for customers who have had them fitted, greatly overcharged, errors found, and compensation getting is nigh on impossible!
.
Suddenly, as I looked out of the balcony window, it was like a totally different view. Dark, dank, and with a heavy dollop of rain, snow, and hail belting against the windows. I stepped onto the balcony and snapped three shots in different directions of the downfall: ahead, to the right, and then to the left. It really belted down, yet only lasted for an estimated 
three minutes, then started brightening up again.
Within an hour, this is how the view from the kitchenette looked!.
Blimey, look at the time! I’ll get some fodder made, methinks, maybe Lamburgers, potato waffles, tomatoes, and some milk roll bread, with tomato ketchup and pickle. Pickle? That reminds me, I’d better empty the catheter. Hello, two shades of yellow in the bag? Summat is not quite right about this?
I put the potato hash browns & Lamb & mutton burgers in the oven. Then I went back to save work and sign off.
Photographed these two of the clouds on view through the kitchen windows.
looked like to me, many things within.
This was a very nice nosh: tomatoes, hash browns, crispy onions, and, of course, the lamb and mutton burgers brought 
Carer Kimberly came. Socks taken off. Medications were given. 
in time to prepare for the Easy-Link lift to the surgery in the morning.
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05:00hrs: What a hue to the morning view.
And flowed, and splattered…
, & 
were leaking the haemoglobin freely. 
By the time I’d finished shaving and got myself disentangled from the Dettol-watered bowel, the floor in the wet room was a bloody mess. It reminded me of that bloodied thingy movie in the shower. Psycho, was it called? I used the water in the bowl and tipped it on the floor to brush it down the shower drain on the floor. But I forgot to turn the shower power on to make the drain work
Galore! ensued
The first thing was to move the medical stuff away from the water. Naturally, the bending needed set off the final 
lesion and Harold’s Haemorrhoids bleeding again, just to add to the chaos, pain and increasing frustration that was building up inside me! 
Then I had to leave the wet room to get to the power switch to turn it on in the hallway… on exiting, I walked into the doorframe, which immediately brought Sweet 
to life.
Crying was considered as an option. As was spitting, cursing and banging my head against the wall. Maybe wailing out as loud as I could… I’m not certain I didn’t actually do that, anyway?
I switched on the power box and hobbled back into the wet room. Gawd Struth! The place looked like an even bigger mess than earlier. The blood was sinking into everything it came in contact with; I just could not move it with the shower spray. So, more pain, I had to use the mop and bucket with bleach and Dettol in the water. But I finally got it looking better. Not properly clean, though. But the domestic help, 
which was once a week, for 3 weeks. No show for three weeks now. Then, I medicated the delicate areas again. And getting into the protection pants was a smidgen difficult. 
fifth try, I got the leg in! I had to take a break to recover from the effort. Taking the photo here on the left. Phew! Then getting the left leg in, which was a lot easier in the pants
, was not in such a 
bad mood. Hehehe! 
. What a change!
I cleaned things up yet again. Then, carefully avoiding any shoulder charges on the doorframe, I meandered out to the kitchenette.
A thickish fog had descended all over Sherwood, probably further, too. Then I carefully limped to the 
main (other) room and to the balcony doors, to Kodak Tim the bog from there. It looked a little bit eerie with the blue hue.
tube inserted into poor 
, calmed down and was less bother for the rest of the day that it’s ever been? Puzzles me this; not complaining!
Sorted the bags out. 
Made a brew, and started at long last on the blog.
The usual fatigue dawned on me; I’d already got some lamb burgers in the oven. So, I closed down the 
computer and made myself a much-needed meal. So glad I opted for the lamb. 
kicked 
off as I settled. Then I worried that I’d left the tap running when I washed the pots, so I got up to check on them, now realising how early I’d settled in the bed; it was not even fully dark out there. So, I got the oven tray I’d missed doing earlier and started to wash it.
rang out, and in came Carer Richard.
taps off? I went to investigate-Cragknangles!
Hard to believe, but I only managed to find two of them. Sad, innit! Hahaha!
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‘s mass of flaked-off skin covered my spectacles, chest, and dressing gown, and left a reasonable deposit on the floor and £300 second-hand shop purchased, c1966, welt-causing, uncomfortable, not-working, itch-inspirational, crumb-containing recliner.
kicked off the moment I moved my left leg. But her joint was utilised to help me bend down to clean up my exuviated skin. The pain and efforts resulted in many visits from 
, 
, and 
.
Well, several of them. The day shot by, and I hadn’t even started this blog until Saturday (today)
were rampant. It’s as if they knew I’d drifted off. Sleep? Erm…what’s that then? Hehe!
.
You’ll notice that no night bag was attached.
brain; and, of course, 
dying. Maybe some effect from 
. Possibly 
in amalgamation with the failed 
operation, cleverly leaving me with double-vision, and some wonderfully uplifting new skills, like walking into door frames, tripping over unseen objects, and the latest, bending down and hitting left-open cupboard door corners when rushing to turn off hot water tap (faucet), that I so regularly leave to run cold. 
I closed the left-open fridge door! I am so glad I wrote this bit now. My food could have decayed! As I am. Hehehe! Where was I? Oh, yes, the urine nocturnal pouch I forgot to put on. Remembered to ask the last Carer to take off my socks last night. 
The Iceland order arrived. 
The only good thing about the order. 
Food!
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.
It was nowhere near as bad as yesterday’s. But coming around afterwards, it took me a long time to get into a condition where I could tackle checking the blog work. It didn’t help that I had made so many errors.
Fantastic, beautiful cloud shots.
Maybe a 5 on the NHS chart.
Back to the wet room.
I had a pareidoliaising feast with this one.
Can anyone see them? 
Was the catheter pouch still a deep colour?
The late evening clouds seemed to be determined to come to the fore. You can imagine, methinks, what I saw at first with my left double-vision eye. Haha!
The bland, pale, undercooked Iceland chicken legs, substituted for the not available thighs, tasted like cardboard would, I imagine. The Heinz beans were also unremarkable. The instant potatoes were very nice, especially with the Heinz pickle-flavoured ketchup.
Took this last shot of the sky.
I managed to find five of them.
, which jumped me awake, but I soon nodded off again. 
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Much more out-of-it than with-it today.
Night pouch.
Medicationings.
My ankles look fine.
The first emptying of the day bag.
Opening the balcony windows.
I kept nipping out to take a view or two.
Between making a mess of this blog.
Wonderful.
Magnificent.
Wunderbar!
Fifth Catheter Bag Emptying (I think).
Cheeky-Faced Chris. Hehe!
Got the mini sausages, which were not burnt too much, into the pan of BBQ beans and tomato sauce with chunky vegetables and stirred while rewarding them,
I ate up most of them with two brown baguettes.
I took this night view and got settled into the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner, in search of Sweet Morpheus. But the mind would not let me rest enough to capture the bliss of sleep
back to mind the shame and self-disgust from the time all those so many years ago.
& 
both went off simultaneously. Miraculously, bearing in mind the viciousness of the leg dance, I didn’t go over or tumble. I’ve not had a fall all week. 
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gave way on me. The bum bounced down into the recliner, and I got an instant comment from Harold’s Haemorrhoids as they burst, bled and stung. Bad enough, you may think? This is where comedy came into the morning’s equation! I’d fallen on the TV remote, and there I was in the middle of cursing and verging on self-pity as the TV came on. That momentarily confused me, realised what had happened and got some kitchen roll in the Protection Pants, as I now had 
bleeding at 
the back! I lost the first hour of the day cleaning up and medicating. I Got the nocturnal catheter pouch off.
dawned. As I was metamorphosed into an old, miserable, g
 
, Â 
, Â 
or any of the ailments really
room, put some Dettol Cream on my head, and got on with the waste bag sorting. A wet, warm sensation from the lower regions. I went back to the wet room to investigate.
released yesterday.
Throughout the day, the bleeding was far, even less than it is usually. Had a wash & shave.
Then checked the state of the ankles. No doubt that my 
was getting better bit by bit. 
is to 
blame.
As per usual, the end car parking turnaround area had its regular little bit of a mudslide in it again.
about the three times the bill was taken from the debits another time. She ran out of time today. 
I took these photos later. 
, I’d discover I’d been doing the blog, mopping the kitchen floor, or started cooking something while out of it. A 
swiftly, ASAP.
I gave up on the blogging
.
But the meal was worth the hassle. 
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04:00hrs: I woke full of life, contented and joyfully… Lying Git! 
Urine is even darker.
This is a terrible Kodak Tim kitchen view effort from Inchy. He tried two more, but they were worse. Haha!
While starting the blog off, out of the blue, the pain from Little Inchie and the point of the tube entering kicked off. No matter what I tried, the pain persisted. Even took some extra Codeine and Paracetamol, but no effect! It was so bad this time, and persistent with it. Later, I took the PPs off, but it made no difference. It’s wearing me down.
End car park view.
I detected the smell of the burning oven chips! Got up and struggled with the pain from Little Inchie and carrying the night bag to the kitchen.
.
Too well burnt even for me! I checked each one and rescued three of them to have itch the meal. I substituted some potato chips from a packet and put them on with the three rescued chips.
.
Arrived and immediately noticed the pain I was in. He called someone and told me they thought it might be just an infection. Someone will call to look at it tomorrow. (We’ll see) Kind of him to bother.
Nearly falling over the forgotten, I’d got a night bag on the way to the wet room.
A bit messy.
I made up the waste bags into one large green one, and although I felt vague, the pains from Littler Inchie seemed less severe. Keep your fingers crossed!
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05:10hrs; Got up to get the ablutions done before the Carer arrived. A lousy ablution session… mind you, the evacuation was a good one. Hahaha!
Dark, too dark again.
The first one was fairish, the second warped.
The preshave medicationalisationing was a fiddly and, at times, painful experience. It was the most painful 
Ablutions were sorted, alarm wristlets and alert bands on, and my ear holes were olive oiled. IÂ struggled to stop 
, Cream on the 
. Then tended to the bruise from the INR blood drain. Doesn’t usually show up this bad
The feet & ankles were looking healthier.
Worst Ablution Session in a long time.
Took the made up bin gag to the front door.
Can you see a face in the carrier bag? Think of Red Dwarf’s Kryten’s face. I could see it. Hehe!
It was Sister Jane. Meridian Care had phoned her to see if my Caregiver had arrived yet.
What an amazing hue!
Despite the discomfort and sheer agony from little 
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Woke and rose at 04:15hrs: After over five hours of kipping! Grrreat! Took me a while to nod off, but I only had three, I think 
didn’t visit me once! But, as usual, when I moved, this time it was both 
& 
launched an attack that I ended up surrendering to and gave up trying to do this blog. Defeated!
, I’m surprised I have any skin left on my head; it was falling off all day. Later I rang Sister Jane, and she and hubby Pete were not in good health at all. Jane’s cough sounded terrible. I’m worried about her now. As I moved to get the B17 tablets that Jane had told me had a
, I took a tumble when 
Passed well, not a bad colour.
Kitchen view.
This is getting bad now. This time, as I was trying to get a decent shot, a 
, not only that but 
I made a brew of Glengettie and got the computer on to work on this blog. A new Caregiver arrived and Medicated me, put the diabetic soaks on for me, and had a little natter. What about escapes me now. Tsk!
 or maybe 
called, and I bluffed my way through. I think, in fact, I did not stop talking to the poor gal. It would help if I could remember what she was talking about. I think I may have, possibly, conceivably mentioned the Lurgy because Joanne sounded like she had a sore throat… or did she?
What amazing views.
Gorgeous.
Oh, how I’d love to recall the pleasure of taking them.
I do recall taking these.
Best nosh in a long time.